The Jailbird Justifies the Jump
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day four hundred and fifty-eight:  abc 10 of 26  Artie came to see him and he asked the question he'd been asking himself.


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 21st cycle. Now cycle 22!_

_**ALPHABET 2.0** - So nearly a year ago (HA!) I had done a set of stories taking inspiration by words, three for each letter of the alphabet (started with Acapella, Audition Arts in mid-February and every other day to April). Well now I wanted to do something like that, but using the alphabet another way. Instead of random words, I made sentences, all with those same letters (you'll see). There'll be 13 here in cycle 22, and the other half in cycle 24!  
**TODAY:** (10 of 26) J is for..._

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**"The Jailbird Justifies the Jump"  
Puck & Artie **

Picking up trash on the side of the road wasn't the worst part of his community service. It was long and tiring, and it made him and his clothes stink in brand new ways, but it wasn't the worst part. Even before his return to McKinley, he knew everyone would know about his turn in juvie, and they'd talk… He'd glare and they'd go away. But then Lima wasn't that big…

And right on his first trash-picking day he discovered the new 'sport' was to find him, spy on him standing there, with his jumper, pick, bag… Humiliation he couldn't do a thing about without making his hell last any longer than it had to.

One day it came that his observer approached him, not a stranger at all, a new friend instead. He heard him wheeling up before he saw him, though he had no idea what it was until he'd turned and saw him coming. He looked around and in the end just paused his work. "Artie," he greeted him.

"It's much what you expect, isn't it?" Artie looked around.

"Not really," Puck frowned, getting back to work. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I saw you here, wanted to say hello," he explained. Puck turned to look at him. Artie shrank. "I heard girls talking, came because I was curious…" he got quiet.

"Which girls?" Puck broke the silence, as though saying 'no worries.' "You weren't serious about tutoring me out here, were you? This is already setting me back so far on the charts."

"No, this isn't the place," Artie agreed. "But the offer for anywhere else, that stands," he promised, and Puck nodded. Artie hesitated, then… "Can I ask you something?" Puck looked up, his posture, even facing away, saying that he should be careful what he asked. "Why'd you do it? Taking the ATM, and…" He didn't reply for a while, but then…

"No reason… Just wanted to."

"Why don't I believe that," Artie shook his head, still presented with no point of reference but the back of Puck's head.

"I don't know, that's your problem, not mine," Puck shrugged.

"Why'd you do it?" Artie asked again. "If you don't want anyone knowing, I won't tell, you've got my word."

"There was no reason," Puck insisted. "I wasn't thinking… I was driving, and I don't know what happened but the next thing I knew I was sitting on top of an ATM and then the cops came. You know the rest of the story."

Artie sat there in silence, first listening to what Puck said, then considering it. They all saw him as this bad boy, and that was the way he wanted it, Artie was fairly sure about that. But even now, knowing about his stint in juvie, he couldn't help but start thinking there was more to the story, more to him. So he decided to try and help, playing the psychologist, almost.

"What happened before?" Puck didn't stop his work, but he'd heard him. More than that, he was putting pieces together in his mind. "Do you want to talk…" Artie cautiously offered. Puck looked back at him, so very hesitant… Artie had never seen him so unguarded. He wanted to talk. "You should still," he indicated the stick and trash bag. Puck slowly resumed, then…

"I thought I'd seen her…"

"Seen who?" Artie asked, tagging along.

"Doesn't matter," Puck shrugged. "It wasn't her anyway," he carried on working.

"Her?" Artie repeated, and in Puck's silence, he did his own piecing together. "Your baby?"

"She's not mine," Puck replied immediately, almost to remind himself more than for Artie. "Not anymore."

"But you and Quinn, that's what you decided, right? To give her up for adoption…"

"I told myself that for a while, too. But then, I don't know… I'd just been thinking how things could have been different, that maybe even if Quinn didn't want to keep her, I could have, and if she ever changed her mind… But then…"

"But then what?" Artie asked, and Puck looked at him. He wasn't going to tell him all of it, with Shelby… Certain things had to stay private. "So it wasn't her then?"

"Wasn't her," he simply replied.

"So you decided to steal an ATM because…" Artie just looked confused.

"It's like I said… I don't know what came over me, and now here I am…" he looked to himself.

"You missed her," Artie suggested.

"Missed, miss, will miss… And I'll never know her, and she'll never know me, won't know if we could have done it…" he drifted, but he came back after a moment, remembering his spoken words would find ears, unlike his unspoken thoughts. Artie spoke even before he could say it.

"Got it," he nodded slowly. He also decided they were better off changing the topic. "How many more hours of this do you have left?" he asked, indicating the bag and pointing to the back of his chair. Puck strapped the bag on, and Artie followed.

THE END

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**A/N: This is a one-shot ficlet, which means that signing up for story alert will not bring you any alerts.  
****In the event of a sequel, the story will be separate from this one. And as chapter stories go, they are  
****always clearly indicated as such [ex: "Days 204-210" in the summary] Thank you!**


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